


The Brand Bearers' Trial

by Nelenus



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Deus Ex Machina, Gen, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 08:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14352225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelenus/pseuds/Nelenus
Summary: Jedah's plan fails when Alm reaches the Temple of Duma before Celica reaches the trap waiting for her at the top of Duma Tower. Forced to abandon his plan to capture Celica, Jedah goes after Alm instead.





	The Brand Bearers' Trial

 

His trap had failed. By some incredible stroke of luck, neither the earthquake nor the necrodragons had managed to stop the Deliverance from crossing Mount Dragonsblight. The battle with the dragons, and the subsequent crossing of the rocky, lava-filled mountain pass – made all the more hazardous by the earthquake – had certainly cost the army dozens of casualties, but they nevertheless set up camp on the other side of the mountain.

With a few muttered words, Jedah ended his scrying spell. He stepped off the stone dais, moving away from the center of the chamber. The muffled rustling of his robes as the fabric dragged along the floor accompanied his movement. He halted just two paces away from the dais, and a silence fell on the chamber.

Jedah spent a minute silently staring at the marble pillars and towering double doors at the far end of the room. Eventually, as he stood there thinking, something finally occurred to him. After about a minute, he broke the silence.

“The plan may yet succeed,” he said, to no one in particular. “As long as the boy does not breach the castle defenses before the girl arrives here.”

Jedah’s thin, purple lips curved upward.

“It will not be much longer, my Lord Duma,” he said. “I will have both Brand Bearers ready for you soon.

* * *

 

Celica came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the clearing. Aside from the path she had just come from, there were two other narrow paths leading back into the woods. Thick lines of trees towered over either side of each path. The sea of tree branches on every side obscured the winding pathways past the first dozen paces, and even blocked out most of the sun’s light. Celica exhaled sharply, looking around the clearing in all directions. Meanwhile, the rest of the group caught up to her one by one.

Conrad halted his horse right next to Celica. Saber came up next, on Celica’s left hand side. Mae, Genny and Boey followed close behind Saber, and following them were Jesse, Atlas, Kamui, Leon, and Valbar. The Whitewing sisters – Catria, Palla, and Est – brought up the right flank, while Nomah, Sonya, and Genny brought up the rear.

“Anthiese? What’s wrong?” Conrad asked.

“This is the third time we’ve been through this clearing,” Celica said. “Conrad, are you sure you don’t remember the way to the Sage’s Hamlet from here?”

Conrad’s shoulders slumped a little, and he shook his head.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t,” he said.

Celica took a step forward, looking back and forth between the two paths in front of her. She also looked up at the veritable ceiling of branches and leaves overhead.

“Palla,” she said, turning around to face the Whitewing sisters. “Is it possible to fly above the trees and find the hamlet that way?”

“That would be difficult, given how thick this forest is,” Palla replied. “Although, it’s really just a matter of having enough room to get above these trees. We will try.”

Palla nudged her pegasus and pulled the reins back. The beast took several steps backward. It backed up almost against a nearby tree before she urged it forward. The pegasus charged forward, making it about halfway across the clearing when it took to the air. Furiously beating its wings in the ascent, the pegasus barely managed to clear the forest ceiling. It brushed up against a tree branch with its hooves, but Palla successfully guided her pegasus above the trees, and presently flew out of sight of the party.

Catria and Est followed suit. First, Catria backed her pegasus up, and then took off, flying over the trees. She disappeared in the same direction Palla went. Shortly after Catria disappeared, Est followed her.

Meanwhile, Celica went up to the nearest tree and sat down, leaning against the tree’s trunk. Conrad removed his mask and dismounted. Saber wandered to the edge of the clearing, sword drawn, keeping an eye out for approaching enemies. Jesse joined him, while the rest of the party kept watch from other directions.

As the wait dragged on, Conrad led his horse to a nearby tree and tied the reins to one of its low-hanging branches. He then sat down beside Celica. She looked up for a second, acknowledging Conrad’s presence before turning her gaze downward. She held a twig in one hand, resting her chin in the other while she drew patterns in the dirt around the tree roots. Even though it had been several days, Jedah’s words to her back at the Dead Man’s Mire still reverberated in her mind.

_“If you offer your soul to Duma, you will set his path to rights and ensure his survival. And with Mila restored to her place, all of Valentia would be saved. And as for Alm—if you do this, he could lay down his arms.”_

An offer to not only save Valentia, but to keep Alm safe as well. It seemed too good to be true. Then again, Jedah never did explain what he meant by “offer your soul.” The price of his bargain might be more than Celica was willing to pay.

“Are you all right?” Conrad asked.

Celica stopped drawing and looked at Conrad again.

“I’m fine,” she said, although she avoided eye contact.

“Are you sure? You seem… distracted. Withdrawn.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted. “It’s just, we’ve been wandering around in circles for so long. It’s a little frustrating.”

“All right…”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Celica continued to draw patterns with the twig, her attention so focused on the activity that she took no notice when Conrad stood up suddenly and put his mask back on. Only when he called her name did she look up.

“They’ve returned,” he said. He fumbled with his horse’s reins in his hurry to untie them from the tree. Then, jumping back into the saddle, he beckoned for Celica to follow him.

Bracing herself against the tree, Celica pushed herself to her feet. She tossed the twig and followed Conrad back into the center of the clearing. The rest of the group had already gathered in a circle around the three sisters.

“The path to the hamlet is to the northeast,” Catria explained as Celica joined the group. “Follow us.”

With the Whitewings’ help, the rest of the path to the Sage’s Hamlet proved easy to find. However, it also proved to be longer than expected. Even knowing exactly where to go, the group still wandered along seemingly endless miles of twisty, narrow trails before they came within sight of the gates. Several sighs of relief were uttered as Celica led the company through the wooden gate into the hamlet. One of those sighs came from Celica herself.

And yet, she did not allow herself to immediately find somewhere to sit down and relax, like her comrades did. Instead, she had Conrad take her directly to Sage Halcyon’s house. Once there, Conrad knocked twice on the door.

“Come in,” called a soft, male voice from within.

Conrad eased the door open. A man with silvery hair and beard, dressed in plum-colored robes awaited them inside, seated at a small desk by the door. Surrounding the desk – and indeed filling most of the room – were multiple stacks of books reaching almost to the ceiling. Celica stared wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the mess. Quickly remembering her mission, though, she regained her composure and stepped inside.

“Sage Halcyon?” she said to the bearded man at the desk.

“Indeed,” he replied. “Welcome, Celica. And you as well, Conrad. It has been a while.”

Conrad smiled. “Heh. It’s only been a few months.”

Halcyon returned the smile. “That’s the longest you’ve been away since you were first brought here. And… what happened to your mask? You were supposed to keep your identity a secret.”

Conrad’s smile vanished. “Yes, that’s, uh… a long story. I apologize.”

“A story for later, perhaps,” Halcyon said, glancing over at Celica. “For now, there are other things to discuss.”

Conrad nodded, and headed through the narrow walkway behind Halcyon, going into the next room. A few seconds later, there was a sound of a door being opened from somewhere in that room, followed by Conrad’s footsteps gradually retreating further into the house. Celica spent a few seconds looking into the room where Conrad had gone.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“He probably thought you wished to speak to me alone,” Halcyon replied.

“Oh. Then…” Celica shifted her weight on her feet. She hesitated for a second, thinking of how to begin.

“I came here to seek your guidance,” she said finally. “I have no idea where my fate lies. I’m so lost…”

“I’m afraid I ken no more of anyone’s fate than you do,” Halcyon said. “All I know is that two things exist to guide you. One is the Brand you bear. The other is your soul’s pair with the selfsame mark.”

Celica looked at her right hand. Even though it was covered by her glove, she could visualize the Brand on her skin underneath. Then, suddenly thinking back to that day in the flower field seven years ago, she remembered. Her eyes widened.

“Do you mean Alm?”

“Indeed. You were both born with the Brand, but the question you must consider is _why_ you were born with it _._ And always remember that you are not alone.”

Celica lowered her hand. “I see,” she said. “But, I am also worried for Alm. Is there any way you can help him?”

Halcyon reached for the staff leaning against the stack of books right next to him.

“Of course.”

He rose to his feet and gripped the staff in both hands. Lowering his head and closing his eyes, he muttered a magic incantation. A flash of blue light erupted from the gem in the staff. Just as quickly as it appeared, however, the light vanished.

Celica shielded her eyes and took a step back. “What was that?”

“I just sent some of my power on to Alm,” Halcyon explained. “Now, do you wish to see him as well?”

A gasp escaped Celica’s throat. “Well, yes, but…” she trailed off, eyes downcast. “I doubt Alm would be happy to see me. I said terrible things to him back at the castle.”

Halcyon chuckled. “The fire of youth at work,” he said. “All the more reason to speak to him, no? I can send you to him – not your physical form – but a projection of your mind.”

“I…” Celica briefly struggled to find words. “If it is possible, then please…”

“All right. Close your eyes, child.”

Halcyon muttered another incantation. His staff lit up again, but this time the whole room was bathed in the magical light for nearly a minute. As the light faded, Celica opened her eyes. She was no longer in Halcyon’s house. He and his endless stacks of books were gone; replaced with blue skies, foothills covered in pine trees, and towering purple mountains on the western horizon. To the east lay more forests, and a river. Lining the banks of the river was an army encampment.

“Alm?” she called. She turned in every direction, looking for him.

“Huh? I heard my name…” It was muffled, but it was Alm’s voice, coming from somewhere beyond the trees.

Celica’s heart beat faster. “Alm!” she called out again, more earnestly this time.

“Celica? Where are you?”

The sound of crunching leaves and twigs indicated someone rapidly approaching from the forest. Within seconds, Alm came into view. He stopped short as soon as he saw Celica, nearly dropping his sword. He sheathed the sword and ran toward Celica, arms outstretched, ready to embrace her. Much to his shock, he ran right through her. Taking a moment to collect himself, he faced Celica again, looking nonplussed.

“What’s going on?” Alm asked. “Is this an illusion? Is it really you?”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m at the Sage’s Hamlet,” Celica explained. “Sage Halcyon’s magic is allowing me to speak with you.”

“Oh, I… wait, what’s wrong?”

Alm took a step forward. Celica had averted her gaze, but not quickly enough to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. Even though he knew it was just an illusion, Alm still reached out as if to wipe away Celica’s tears.

“Please don’t cry,” he said.

“Aren’t you angry? I said such terrible things to you at the castle.” Sensing Alm’s approach, Celica lifted her head.

“What? _That’s_ been bothering you?” Alm said. “It’s all right, Celica. I’m not mad at you. I was just sad you didn’t see my side of things.”

Celica sniffed, and blinked back her tears.

“Really?” she said. “I’m so sorry, Alm. You’re always so nice to me… and yet I’m always thinking only of myself.”

She paused and looked away for a moment.

“Alm, I should tell you why I left the island in the first place,” she continued. “I’m going to see Duma.”

Alm’s eyes widened. 

“What?! No! Celica, it’s too dangerous. There’s no telling what the Duma Faithful would do to you if –”

Celica shook her head. “I have to go,” she said. “Mila wasn’t in her temple. Emperor Rudolf attacked. Now she’s being held captive in Duma Tower. That’s why Zofia’s lands have gone barren. I have to go and free her. I’m the only one who can.”

“Wait,” Alm said. “A while ago, back at the sluice gate, I realized something… you’re actually the princess of Zofia, aren’t you? Princess Anthiese.”

Celica smiled. “I am. Guess my secret’s out.”

Alm winced. “Ugh, now I’m cringing at all the thoughtless things I said to you earlier. Forgive me, Celica.”

Celica’s smile widened, and she even let out a small laugh. “We were both being thoughtless, I guess. But it’s all right, Alm.”

“And don’t worry; I promise I’ll get your kingdom back,” Alm said. “Just promise me that you won’t –”

“That’s kind of you, Alm,” Celica said. “But winning the war won’t be enough. I still have to free Mila…”

“But –”

The magical light surrounding Celica vanished, and the image of her faded. Alm now stood alone in the forest, staring at the spot where Celica had been.

“Celica!”

He stood rooted to the spot for a minute. Shaking his head, he finally gave up and headed back to camp.

He skipped training and dinner that evening. He would have gone straight to his tent had Lukas and Clive not noticed him and called him over.

“Alm, is there something wrong?” Clive asked. He waved Alm over, and the three of them headed into the command tent.

“I saw Celica earlier today,” Alm said.

“You’re sure?” Clive asked. “The last time you saw this girl, it turned out to be a trap laid by one of the Duma Faithful.”

“Relax, I’m not about to run off to find her this time,” Alm said, with a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “But she did say she was on her way to Duma Tower.”

“Duma Tower?” Lukas repeated. “That’s quite far into Rigel… not far from Rigel Castle itself, in fact.”

“Alm,” Clive said. “I’d advise you to take caution with these visions of yours. The Duma Faithful might be trying to lure us into another trap.”

“No,” Alm said firmly. “I know it was her this time. She said that Sage Halcyon was using his magic to let her speak with me.”

“That doesn’t guarantee anything.”

“Sir Clive, if I may?” Lukas cut in. “If I remember correctly, Sage Halcyon lives in exile in a secluded village known as the Sage’s Hamlet. The hamlet itself lies just a few days’ march from Duma Tower. If Celica really is there, she is likely to reach the tower at roughly the same time we would reach Rigel Castle – depending on Rigel’s strength, and if we run into no further delays.”

Alm frowned. “What does that mean for us, though?”

“It means that we have no way of knowing whether this is a trap until after we’ve captured Rigel Castle,” Lukas said. “It has no bearing on our objective.”

“But if it is a trap?” Clive asked.

“That wouldn’t make sense,” Alm said. “Once we defeat Emperor Rudolf, the war is over. Why would they try to trap us after they’ve lost?”

Silence fell on the tent. Though they each thought long and hard on Alm’s question, no one ventured an answer out loud. Eventually, Alm just shrugged and headed for the tent door.

“Whatever the case, we still need to hurry to Rigel Castle if we want to end this war,” he said. “We march tomorrow morning.”

True to his word, Alm gave the order to march early the next morning. The Deliverance struck camp and was on the march within an hour after breakfast.

They marched in the brisk morning air for several hours without a problem. Unfortunately, it never got any warmer as the day wore on. To make things worse, a biting north wind kicked in that evening, as the temperature dropped further. Everyone in the Deliverance counted themselves lucky there was no snow yet.

That didn’t last.

The Deliverance continued its northward march to Rigel Castle, but there was one last obstacle to pass. A fortress, heavily guarded, and captained by none other than Slayde, Desaix’s former right-hand man. And no sooner had the battle opened than the first flakes of snow began to fall.

Alm tried to press the attack, but the army’s movements were hampered by the narrow passages between the fortress walls. Worse, bow knights and arcanists sniped at anyone who tried to make a run down the passages. Python, Tobin, Kliff, Delthea and Luthier struck back with arrows and spells of their own. Clair helped out by repeatedly flying over the walls with her pegasus, frustrating the enemy with hit-and-run tactics. Alm instructed Faye and Tatiana to keep their physic spells handy, then he himself led a charge toward the center of the fort.

Once they made it through the gauntlet that was the outer walls of the fort, the Deliverance made short work of Slayde and the remaining soldiers in the garrison. After the last enemy fell, Alm gathered everyone inside the fort.

“All right,” he said. “Rigel Castle is less than a day away. We can rest here tonight, then make the castle by tomorrow afternoon.” 

* * *

 

After spending the night in the Sage’s Hamlet, Celica and the others set out the following morning. It was not very far into the march before they once again found themselves ankle deep in mud. While Palla, Catria, and Est could fly above the swamp, everyone else was stuck trudging through the mire. On multiple occasions, someone would nearly lose a boot in the mud, and they would have to pause to pull it out before continuing.

“Ugh, how much more of this damned swamp do we have to go through?” Saber muttered, pulling his boot out of the mud for the third time.

“Relax, Saber, I think we’re nearly there,” Celica said. She pointed at a large, fortified structure off in the distance.

Saber looked at it, then back at Celica.

“Hate to break it to you, lass, but that’s not Duma Tower,” he said. “That’s a fort.”

“Well, Duma Tower can’t be much further, right?” Celica countered. “The garrison in that fort is probably guarding the path to the tower. We should prepare for battle.”

“Are you serious, priestess?” Kamui groaned. “We can barely move in this muck, and you want us to fight?”

“Hey, it’s not like we’d have much of a choice!” Boey said.

“Actually, there is solid ground just ahead,” Conrad said. “We’ll be out of the swamp by the time we reach that fort.”

There were multiple sighs of relief at that statement. With the prospect of solid ground in sight, everyone picked up the pace. Their progress was still slow, but within the next few minutes, the group finally made it out of the mire.

As soon as she stepped onto the hard ground, Celica knelt down, inspecting the mud covering her boots. She tried scraping the mud off, but quickly gave up. Instead, she sat down and rested for a moment. One by one, the rest of the group got the same idea. It was a brief, but welcome respite.

Celica tried in vain to scrape a little more mud off her boots before standing back up. She slowly started walking in the direction of the fort.

Everyone else got up and followed, but they didn’t make it far before they were stopped again. By the time the first half of the group got within a hundred paces of the gate, a handful of witches appeared out of thin air, blocking the path. Saber cursed under his breath and drew his sword. Everyone else readied their weapons as well.

“Ready, everyone? Charge!” Celica said.

Celica, Saber, Conrad and the Whitewings led the first charge. A few more witches teleported in, but Leon, Kamui, and Jesse made short work of them. With the witches gone, Celica pressed toward the gate. Judging by the shrieks of gargoyles coming from behind the walls, she knew there was at least one cantor hiding back there.

Palla, Catria and Est flew over the wall, fighting their way through gargoyles to try to find and silence the cantor. However, they also found themselves dodging magic spells from arcanists hiding behind the walls as well. Leon, Mae, Boey, and Sonya answered the arcanists with their own combined volley of arrows and magic. Meanwhile, Saber led the rest of the group through the other side of the fort.

They had only just started breaking through the enemy’s lines when the ground began to shake violently. The earth cracked, then opened wide rifts in the ground. Celica lost her footing and fell. She dropped the Beloved Zofia, and had to take a moment to pull her leg out of a small fissure that the earthquake had created in the fort’s stone floor.

The battle dragged on for another half an hour. The arcanist hiding in the center of the fort managed to unleash another magically induced earthquake before the Whitewings finally took him down. Celica and the others spent the last few minutes of the battle clearing out the remaining Terrors and arcanists hiding in the outer edges of the fort.

When at last the battle was over, everyone gathered on the other side of the gate. Some collapsed from exhaustion. Others sat down to heal their wounds.

Celica sat down, leaning against the stone wall of the outer part of the gate. She wrapped cloth around the gash in her leg she received after falling in the fissure. Presently, Genny approached her, her staff already glowing with the light of her healing magic. Whispering a word of thanks, Celica rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes.

_“Anthiese…”_

“Huh?”

Celica sat bolt upright. Her eyes flew open, and she looked around. Clearly, no one around her had said anything. For one thing, she knew this voice, and it didn’t belong to any of her friends.

“Jedah…” she hissed. She rose to her feet.

Genny had since moved on to where Saber sat, healing his wounds. Mae, Boey, Sonya and Nomah helped out with their own healing spells. The rest of the group had spread out on the grass behind the gate, resting from the battle. No one took any notice of Celica as she got up and wandered away from the group.

“What do you want?” Celica asked, rounding a thicket of sickly gray trees. Standing a dozen paces away was Jedah, standing hunched over in his dark robes. His purple-skinned hands were clasped together in front of him, and he greeted Celica with a smirk.

“I do hope you’ve given more consideration to my bargain since last time,” Jedah said.

Celica narrowed her eyes at him.

“If I recall correctly, you said you would await my reply at Duma Tower,” she said. She made a show of looking around the swamp all around them. The tower was nowhere in sight.

Jedah’s smile disappeared. “Indeed,” he said. “But if you wish to save the boy, you must come with me now.”

Celica froze. “What do you mean?” she demanded. “What have you done to Alm?!”

Jedah frowned, even looking a little hurt. “I have done nothing to him, Princess,” he said. “But if you wish to see what I mean, then I can grant you sight.”

Without even waiting for a reply, Jedah unclasped his hands. He held his right hand out, and a white light flashed from the center of his palm.

Much like what had happened at the Sage’s Hamlet, Celica suddenly found herself seemingly transported somewhere else. This time, she stood atop the ramparts of a castle. Rigel Castle. Rigelian standards flew high amid the ranks of the army that stood on the castle walls, just a couple dozen feet away. Gathered in the snowy field below was another army – the Deliverance. Alm stood at the front of the army, sword drawn. It was currently snowing.

A flurry of movement on the ramparts caught Celica’s attention. The Rigelian ranks suddenly split in half – each half moving to opposite sides of the wall as they allowed a tall, imposing, heavily armored man to come through. His armor bore the symbol of the Rigelian lion on the breastplate, and he carried an equally imposing lance and shield. On his white-haired head, he wore a crown.

Celica recognized him immediately. She had only seen him once before, and that in a dream. But it was that very dream that appeared to be about to play itself out right before her eyes.

“No!”

“There is still time, Princess. Come with me.”

Celica did not move. But the vision of the castle ended without warning, and she was back in the swamp. Jedah, meanwhile, had turned to look at something behind Celica.

“Not a chance, buddy!”

A bolt of lightning came down over Jedah’s head, but it vanished before it would have struck him, as if some invisible barrier had deflected it. Instead of shock or fear, the narrowed eyes and lowered eyebrows on Jedah’s face looked annoyed more than anything else.

A split second after the lightning bolt appeared, Mae came sprinting over. Boey, Conrad, and Saber came running close behind her. While Mae had Jedah distracted, Conrad seized Celica by the shoulders and pulled her away from Jedah.

“I have no use for any of you, save Anthiese,” Jedah snarled. “Begone!”

With that, he raised his hands, and the air around him took on a sickly purple aura. From the hideous magical mist emerged no less than four mogalls. All four of the monsters then promptly charged at the group. Conrad caught one, impaling one of its eyes with his lance. Saber dodged the second, then ran it through with his sword. Mae and Boey blasted the last two with fire spells.

No sooner had those four mogalls been defeated than three more flew over to replace them. By this time, though, more of Celica’s companions arrived on the scene. Catria hurled a javelin squarely in the center mass of one mogall. Palla and Est charged the other two head on.

Jedah continued to summon mogalls. Each wave of them kept the group distracted, while Jedah himself retreated. Mae tried ignoring them and blasting Jedah instead with her magic, but to her dismay, her attacks had no effect. Jedah laughed.

“Your struggling is most amusing,” he said. “But I cannot waste any more time on you. Anthiese! I will await you at the Altar of Duma. But know that the boy’s fate is your doing!”

He sent one last wave of mogalls at the group, then conjured a warp circle. Two seconds later, he vanished.

As the rest of the group dispatched the remaining mogalls, Celica looked on in stunned silence at the spot where Jedah had been standing. With the battle ended, the rest of the group gathered around Celica. They all looked on with varying degrees of concern.

“All right, what the hell just happened?” Saber demanded. “Did you _know_ that man?”

“I…” Celica tore her gaze away from the ground ahead of her. She glanced at Saber, but avoided direct eye contact. “I’m sorry. But we need to hurry to Duma Tower.”

“We know that!” Mae said indignantly. “But who _was_ that creepy guy, and what did he mean by ‘come with me, there is still time?’ Time to do what? What’s going on?”

Celica sighed. “That man is Jedah. He’s the one holding Mila captive in Duma Tower,” she said. “We must hurry if we’re going to save her.”

Celica made as if to start running off right then and there, but Conrad interrupted her.

“Sister, wait,” he said. “That’s... not all, is it? Jedah mentioned someone else as well. Who is the ‘boy’ he was talking about?”

“He was talking about Alm,” Celica replied.

Mae gasped. “Alm?” she said. “Isn’t that the boy from the castle?”

“He’s in terrible danger,” Celica went on. “Jedah showed me with his magic… We need to get to Duma Tower and free Mila before he…”

She shook her head and took off.

“Celica! Wait!”

Mae ran after her. The others quickly followed, and they all caught up to Celica about a minute later. Saber caught up to her and walked along on her left side. By now, she had slowed from a run to a fast walk. Just one of Saber’s strides easily matched two of hers.

“Hang on a minute, lass,” Saber said. “Isn’t that Alm kid the leader of the Deliverance?”

“Yes…”

“Well, then what’s the problem? Sure, he’s leading the army in a war, but that’s hardly news to you. What’s got you so worked up over this guy?”

“It… it’s nothing, really,” Celica said, but the shakiness in her voice hinted otherwise. “I’m just worried about him is all.”

“You sure?”

Celica did not answer. Instead, she focused her gaze straight ahead, and picked up the pace once more. The remainder of the march went on in uncomfortable silence.

Hours later, as what little daylight permeating the gloomy swamps started to fade, the massive walls of Duma Tower came into view. Despite having kept a brisk pace for most of the day, Celica found the energy to break into a run. The whole group ran after her, halting at the entrance.

The tower itself was a colossal construct of white marble. Its double door entrance stood an impressive twelve feet tall, and, interestingly, was not locked. Celica went inside first, and the rest filed in after her in groups of two and three.

“Jedah will most likely be waiting for us at the tower’s peak,” Celica said. “In the meantime, stay alert. Who knows what else awaits us in here.”

With that said, she drew the Beloved Zofia from its sheath as she headed further in. She did not bother with conjuring her magical flame; the torches mounted on sconces every few dozen feet provided adequate light. But the light they did provide cast everything in a sickly shade of yellow. And yet, as unsettling as that was, the thing that truly made Celica shudder was the discovery she made upon walking past the first torch. No heat radiated from the flames. 

Her grip on her sword tightened, and she led the group through an archway and into a corridor. The muffled echoing of footsteps in the distance indicated that they were not alone. Either Terrors, the Duma Faithful, or both lurked in the halls and chambers beyond.

“Let’s go,” Celica whispered. She waved everyone onward, pointing down the right-hand side of the corridor.

The group wandered the tower for what felt like hours. Locating the flights of spiral staircases leading to the floor above seemed like the only indicator of progress. As if to slow them down further, every flight of stairs was guarded by a company of Duma Faithful and Terrors.

Celica had already lost count of how many flights they had ascended as she obliterated a mogall with a Seraphim spell. The Whitewings had charged ahead to take out more mogalls in the corner of the room. Conrad stayed by Celica’s side, impaling any enemies that came too close. Genny stayed in the back, casting healing magic when necessary. The others handled the rest of the Terrors blocking the way up the staircase.

The instant the pathway up the stairs was clear, Celica made a beeline for the staircase. Once she came to the landing, she stopped. Just beyond the pillars at the forefront of the landing, there was a set of double doors. She walked over and pulled the handles. They were unlocked, so she swung the doors wide and stepped into the chamber beyond.

“What?”

It was empty.

She wandered around the room, glancing in all directions as she went. More pillars positioned every several feet held up the ceiling. A stone dais marked with Duma’s sigil stood in the center of the room. Half a dozen sconces on the walls held more torches, with their eerie, cold flames. But, most notably, there were no other doors. There was nothing else on this floor.

This was the tower’s pinnacle, where Jedah was supposed to be waiting. But Jedah himself was nowhere to be found.

“This can’t be right,” Celica said, returning to the entrance, where everyone else waited. “He said he would be here… Mila is supposed to be here!”

“Well… where else could he be?” Mae asked. “I thought I heard him say something about the Altar of Duma or some junk.”

“I dunno what this is, but it ain’t an altar,” Saber said.

“We came all the way here,” Celica said. Her voice started to shake. “Just to find this? Was it all for nothing?”

“No,” Conrad said. “This is just a setback. The Altar is not here, but we will find it.”

“Any idea where to start?” Saber asked.

“Conrad, you were raised by Sage Halcyon,” Celica said, regaining her composure a little. “Did he ever say anything about the Altar of Duma?”

“He didn’t speak of it much,” Conrad replied. “But if I remember right, he said there is a passageway to Duma Temple from Duma Tower.”

“Then the altar should be in the temple,” Celica concluded. “All right. We just need to find that passage.”

* * *

 

Jedah’s warp spell took him back to the pinnacle of Duma Tower, atop the dais in the center of the room.

“This is not going as planned,” he grumbled. “The boy might reach the Temple before I’ve captured Anthiese. But if that’s the case…”

A low rumbling sound interrupted Jedah’s thought. Yet the sound did not come from anywhere in the room itself, but inside Jedah’s mind. After the rumbling, a deep male voice spoke.

“Bring him to me…” Duma’s voice echoed inside Jedah’s head.

“I will,” Jedah said. “Although my plan had been to offer the princess first, I may need to go after the boy instead. But first, where is he…”

Jedah held his hands out in front of him, palms up. A white light flashed, and the image of an underground tunnel appeared. A large group of at least ten, possibly more, wandered through the tunnel. Alm was leading them.

“Gah!” Jedah lowered his hands, and the image vanished. “He’s already inside?! Then I must abandon the plan to capture Anthiese after all.”

He conjured another warp circle. Within seconds, he was gone.

* * *

 

Alm and the others made their way along a winding corridor. They’d already wandered through many similar passages since entering this so-called Temple of Duma, which resembled an underground maze more than a temple. To make matters worse, Terrors, specters, and Duma Faithful lurked around every corner, ambushing Alm’s company at every opportunity. Around this next corner, however, awaited something even worse.

Since the revelation that Emperor Rudolf was Alm’s father, Alm now realized that the young Rigelian general Berkut was his cousin. Even though he had learned far too late about his father, Alm still had family left in Berkut.

And yet, when Alm called a halt at the end of the passageway, and heard Berkut’s voice from around the corner, his heart sank. Fernand’s dying warning echoed in Alm’s mind.

“ _You must beware of Berkut. He is no longer…”_

“No longer what?” Alm muttered to himself.

“Huh? Alm? You say something?” Gray asked. He had been standing closest to Alm and was the only one that heard him.

“No.”

Alm inched closer to the wall, trying to listen to what was going on in the chamber ahead. Berkut had apparently stopped speaking, but his voice hadn’t been the only thing Alm and the others heard. The flickering light on the adjacent walls, and the low rumbling both indicated a fire, and not a small one.

“Let’s go.”

Alm strode out into the open space just ahead, sword drawn. He turned in the direction of the light, and sure enough, a roaring fire blazed from an altar at the far end of the chamber. An armored, shadowy figure stood in front of the fire.

The figure shifted a bit. It extended its right arm, revealing a black lance as long as the figure was tall. Then, the figure walked toward Alm. It halted several paces away – close enough for Alm to make out the man’s face. It was Berkut.

“You kept me waiting, Alm,” Berkut said. He let out a mirthless chuckle that sent a chill down Alm’s spine. “Or should I say… Your Excellency? Emperor Rudolf II of Rigel?”

“Stop it, Berkut,” Alm said. “I never wanted any of this.”

Berkut ignored him. Instead, he took one more step forward, angling his lance so that its point hovered barely a foot away from Alm’s chest.

“It must feel wonderful to possess both Zofia and Rigel,” Berkut sneered. “But it’s a sensation I’ll never know.”

“This isn’t a conquest for me, Berkut,” Alm said. “I have no delusions that the people of Rigel will suddenly welcome me as their ruler. My father placed this land in my care, but I need your help. So come with us. Lend us your strength! The people of Rigel trust and love you far more than me. And, we are cousins after all. Family. I didn’t think I had any family in this world, and yet…”

“Silence!”

Berkut thrusted the lance forward, and Alm just barely blocked the attack in time with his shield. Undeterred, Berkut pressed his attack. Alm leapt backward to dodge the lance a second time.

“I’ve heard enough of you offering your trite platitudes from on high!” Berkut said. He pulled his lance back, readying for another strike. “The two of us, work together? Don’t make me laugh.”

By this point, the rest of the group had come out from the corridor and assembled behind Alm. However, a comparably sized company of arcanists and Terrors had also emerged from the shadows behind Berkut. Yet Berkut paid no heed to either Alm’s forces or his own.

“Strength isn’t lent, it’s taken!” he spat. “Pried from the grip of your dead foes!”

As he made his third strike, Berkut’s eyes began to glow red. His whole body took on a crimson aura, with spectral flames enveloping his armor and lance.

“What the…” Alm muttered as he retreated in the face of Berkut’s assault. “Is this what Fernand was warning us about?”

“Alm! Berkut has taken in Duma’s power!” Clive’s voice called from somewhere behind him. “He’s no longer the man we knew!”

“No…”

Alm rejoined the group, but Berkut did not pursue him. Instead, he retreated as well. He took a couple dozen paces backward, until he was nearly up against the flaming altar, and let out another bone-chilling laugh. The flames behind him leapt higher, and something shot upward out of the fire. It had the shape of a woman, but with a body made of fire rather than flesh. It came down slowly and landed beside Berkut.

“My beloved Rinea… Beautiful, isn’t she?” Even Berkut’s voice had become distorted by his transformation.

Alm drew back in horror.

“Oh, gods…” he said. “You offered the woman you love up to Duma? How could you? What’s the point of power if you have nothing left to protect?!”

“Power won’t betray me, or deceive me,” Berkut said. “Blood ties, and years of life lived together are all meaningless. The only thing a man can rely on is his own strength!”

“What? Are you accusing my father of betraying you? He loved you! You knew him so much better than I did; how can you not see that?”

Berkut ignored him. Turning to Rinea, he said, “It’s time, Rinea. Come with me. We’ll hold our wedding atop his funeral!”

Alm never got the chance to respond, as three armored Terrors came charging at him. While Alm blocked the attack from the first one, Lukas and Gray blocked the other two. With his lance, Lukas pushed his undead enemy’s weapon aside, then kicked it squarely in the abdomen. Gray parried his enemy’s attack, then returned the strike with lightning speed. He wedged his sword in between two plates in the creature’s armor and sliced its chest open.

From somewhere behind him, a Seraphim spell flew over Alm’s head. Its blinding light obliterated the face and upper body of the Terror that had attacked him. The undead creature stumbled backward and collapsed in a heap on the stone floor. Breathing a word of thanks to whoever had cast the spell, Alm stepped over his fallen enemy and pressed forward to the altar.

His companions split into two groups to deal with the other enemies that had appeared. Tobin and Delthea led the charge against a group of arcanists on the left flank. Clair and Gray led the charge on the right.

Meanwhile, Alm went up the center. He tried to focus on Berkut, but a flash of light from Rinea made him halt for a second. Her fire-wreathed body floated about a foot off the ground, and she had both arms raised over her head. After the mysterious flash, three witches materialized around her. One went after Clair, and the second teleported next to the left wall. The third flew straight at Alm.

Alm broke into a run. The witch hurled a fireball at him, which Alm dodged. He took three more strides forward, thrusting the Royal Sword into the witch’s chest. She cried out in pain, and then vanished. Alm lowered his sword.

Before he could do anything else, however, a white light appeared on the floor under Alm’s feet. He looked down, just in time to see the light coalesce into a warp circle.

“What the…” He glanced around, frantically searching for the caster. Silque and Tatiana were too far away, and Faye was busy healing Kliff.

The magical light enveloped him. When it faded, Alm stumbled backward in shock. Rinea had used her Entrap spell to pull him right in front of her. And now that he was within easy reach, Berkut raised his lance to strike. Alm blocked the blow, then responded with a sweeping strike aimed at Berkut’s midsection.

“Alm, look out!” Gray yelled.

Rinea’s hands glowed with a brighter intensity than before. She raised her hands overhead, but no witches appeared this time. Instead, the white rays of a Seraphim spell formed in her hand. She then hurled the spell at Alm. Despite his attempt to dodge, it hit him in the shoulder with the force of a battering ram, knocking him off his feet.

Alm picked himself up, gritting his teeth in pain. Not having time to check his wound, he simply ignored it and swung his sword at Rinea. The blade caught her just above the hip, and Alm tore a diagonal line up her torso. He pulled his sword back, blocking another attack from Berkut. Two seconds later, Gray came running up to help. He slashed open Rinea’s arm with his first attack, and kept her distracted while Alm went after Berkut.

“I’m sorry, Berkut,” Alm muttered under his breath. “I have to end this.”

He took a deep breath to steel himself. Berkut charged at him, and the two exchanged blows. Within seconds, Alm found the opening in Berkut’s defenses he was looking for. He buried half of the Royal Sword’s blade into Berkut’s side. Two screams rent the air.

The first scream belonged to Berkut. Rinea let out a wounded cry of her own just a split second later, having been impaled on Gray’s sword. Gray pulled his sword out and stepped back. Then, in the same fashion as the witches she summoned, Rinea vanished.

Meanwhile, Alm pulled the Royal Sword out of Berkut’s side. Berkut let out a choking noise and clutched his wound as he stumbled to the side. The red aura surrounding him faded. His grip on his lance failed, and the weapon shattered upon hitting the floor.

“Berkut!” Alm dashed forward, dropping his sword and catching his cousin before he fell.

“What are you doing?” Berkut said weakly. “Finish this already… End me, and stand alone as inheritor of the Rigelian throne.”

“No!” Alm’s voice wavered. He had to blink back tears before continuing. “I’ve spent enough of my life alone! Come on, Berkut, you’re the only family I have left…”

For a minute, Berkut seemed to pay no attention to Alm. Instead, he stared beyond him, at something only he could see. His mouth moved, but no words came out.

“Please…” Alm said. “I don’t want to be alone again…”

“You’re not a child anymore…” Berkut’s eyes finally focused on Alm again. “Alm… You must… slay Duma… make Valentia a world where people… are never again… corrupted by divine power…”

Berkut’s words dissolved into weak gasps for breath. Blood trickled out of the corners of his mouth, and he choked on his own blood. The awful choking noises only lasted a few seconds before Berkut fell silent. His body went limp, and his head lolled to the side.  

Alm’s whole body shook as tears streamed down his face. “After all this time… why?”

Everyone else began to regroup near the altar, though they kept their distance from Alm. Gray was the first to approach him. He sheathed his sword and took a few hesitant steps forward.

“Hey, Alm…” he said.

Alm gently lay Berkut’s body on the floor. Without getting up, he turned his head to look at Gray.

“I never got to know him… or my father…”

Alm stood up. He stared at the walls for a minute before rejoining the group.

“Let’s go,” he said. He walked over to where he had dropped his sword and picked it up. “We have to find Duma.”

“Alm,” Clive said. “You know we cannot defeat Duma without Falchion. We have to find Mila first.”

“I know.” Alm took a moment to clean the blood off his sword. “After we find Falchion, I’ll slay Duma myself. I won’t let anyone else be corrupted by his power.”

With that, Alm took off. He led the group down the passageway leading deeper into the temple. They wandered through more Terror-infested tunnels for what felt like hours.

Eventually, as Alm headed down a rare empty corridor, something off to the side caught his eye. He stopped in front of a stone tablet standing in the middle of the floor. Behind the tablet stood a sealed door.

“What’s this?” Alm mused aloud, stopping in front of the tablet.

Clair walked up beside him, leaning in close to read the inscription.

“Hmm, it says ‘these doors bar all save those of royal blood,’” she said. “This must be the Royal Vault!”

“The Royal Vault,” Alm repeated. He lowered his head. “This is where Falchion was supposed to be stored… but it’s not in there now.”

“Yes, it seems to have found a new home in Mila’s skull…” Clair shuddered as she spoke.

“Come on, there’s nothing for us in there,” Alm said.

“You sure about that?” Gray said. “There could be other stuff in there! Gold, jewels, magical doodads…”

“I don’t think that would -”

Alm cut himself off, distracted by a mysterious light coming from his left hand. He held his hand up. A bluish-white light, visible through his glove and gauntlet, shone in the exact shape of his Brand.

“The Brand… is glowing? What’s going on?”

Gray’s eyebrows shot up for half a second. “Alm, you okay there, buddy?”

“I’m feeling something strange,” Alm said, not looking up from his hand. “I need to take a look.”

“At what?”

Alm never answered Gray’s question. Instead, he went around the tablet, pushed the door open, and ran inside.

“Hey! Alm! Where are you going?”

Gray tried to follow him, only to find himself blocked by an invisible barrier. He ran face first into it, and nearly lost his balance upon collision.

“What the – I can’t get past!”

Clair stifled a chuckle. “It seems the doors really do bar all but the royal family! How cheeky!”

Gray glared at her. “Very funny, Clair,” he said. “But what about Alm? We don’t know what’s in there.”

Clair’s smile faded. “Yes, I do hope he’ll be all right on his own,” she said.

Meanwhile, in the halls of the Royal Vault, Alm pressed on alone. He had made it through a long, narrow corridor without seeing anything, and now he stood in a large chamber. Contrary to what Gray seemed to think, the chamber was completely bereft of treasure. Instead, a horde of skeletons stood blocking Alm’s way further into the vault.

Alm held his sword at the ready. “Alright…”

He charged toward the skeletons, and they started running toward him as well. They met in the center of the room, where Alm cut down the first few with ease. The remaining Terrors pressed him on every side. With wide, sweeping strokes of his sword, Alm cleared them all away, but not without sustaining a few wounds in the process. Fortunately, they were minor, and he barely even needed to tend to them before he continued on his way.

The door led to another long corridor, followed by another chamber filled only with Terrors. An army of gargoyles greeted him this time. Like the room before, Alm charged ahead, sword swinging. He defeated them all and went to the next chamber. This time, he fought a handful of white dragons. When at last he defeated the last one, he wandered over to the door. He leaned heavily against the wall, taking a minute to catch his breath. The continuous battling had taken a lot out of him, and fatigue started to set in. Alm rested by the door for five minutes.

“There had better not be any more,” he muttered to himself before picking up the Royal Sword and heading down the passageway.

Alm entered the next chamber, and promptly froze in shock. Though no Terrors awaited him, something else entirely unexpected lay on the floor just ahead. A statue – or rather, the petrified body – of Mila’s dragon form, with Falchion protruding from her forehead.

“What are Mila and Falchion doing here?”

He sheathed his sword and took a few steps closer to Mila. Now that he could see it up close, he noticed that Falchion had been turned to stone as well.

“What happened?”

Alm started to reach for Falchion’s hilt, but froze at the sound of approaching footsteps. Lowering his arm, he looked beyond Mila’s body, in the direction the sound had come from. Presently, a purple-skinned man in long, dark robes came into view.

“Greetings, Alm,” the man said.

“Who are you?” Alm asked.

“My name is Jedah,” the man replied. “I must congratulate you for making it all the way here. I admit I was impressed with how quickly you disposed of Emperor Rudolf…”

Alm’s hand flew to his sword hilt.

“All right, Jedah,” he said threateningly. “Enjoy your last moments. I’m going to put an end to you and Duma!”

Jedah smirked.

“Stay your hand, boy,” he said. “You know not what you do. Duma cannot be slain without Falchion, which, as you can see, has been sealed away with Mila. She sealed it herself; no one can draw the blade now.”

“What?”

“No doubt Rudolf told you about Duma’s madness during his dying moments,” Jedah continued. “But don’t worry; there is still a way to set Duma’s path to rights and save Valentia. You must offer your soul up to him.”

Alm drew his sword.

“Never,” he said. “You’re lying. I’ve seen what happens to people that offer themselves to him. Duma’s ‘power’ has caused nothing but suffering! I’m going to put an end to that!”

“You’re on a fool’s errand,” Jedah said. “A soul as powerful as yours would save Duma from his madness. But if you will not offer it willingly, then I shall take it by force!”

Jedah raised his hands, readying a spell. With Mila’s massive stone body in the way, Alm sprinted to the far side of the room in order to get around it. As he rounded Mila’s head, he nearly ran head on into Jedah’s first attack. The air in front of Alm turned black from Jedah’s magic. In trying to stop his forward momentum, Alm leaned backward, sliding just underneath the magical onslaught. But while he narrowly dodged the attack, Mila’s petrified body was less fortunate. Jedah’s magic flew over Alm’s head and punched a hole in Mila’s torso, sending stone debris flying in all directions.

When the debris settled, Alm raised his sword and charged. To his dismay, upon getting within five paces of his opponent, he was suddenly pushed back by an invisible barrier. He slid backwards, bracing himself against Mila’s side to maintain his balance. Jedah laughed.

Undeterred, Alm charged Jedah a second time, but met with the same result. Jedah cast another spell, and this time, Alm was not so lucky. The black rays struck him squarely in the chest, bypassing his armor and wreaking havoc on the flesh underneath.

Alm screamed. Every nerve in his body was on fire from the agony. He only managed to stay on his feet for about three seconds, but then collapsed. Using his sword as a crutch, Alm tried pushing himself back up.

Meanwhile, Jedah launched yet another spell. Not having time to get to his feet first, Alm tried rolling out of the path of the spell. It almost worked. He dodged a second direct hit, but the spell’s rays struck him in the right shoulder, ramming him into what was left of Mila’s body. Part of the spell hit Mila as well. The magic shattered her flank, and more debris flew across the room.

Alm rolled onto his left side. With his elbow acting as a fulcrum, he propped himself up. He got onto his knees, and had to lean heavily on his sword the rest of the way up.

By the time Alm made it to his feet, Jedah closed the distance between them. His hands glowed with the light of another spell. Getting desperate, Alm gripped his sword with both hands and swung the blade at Jedah’s head. Just like the previous two attempts, some invisible force deflected Alm’s attack. Jedah’s grin widened.

“Now, you will come with me,” he said.

Alm spat blood at him. Raising his sword for the fourth time, he made one last attempt to strike at Jedah.

The attack connected. Finally, Alm had somehow broken through Jedah’s barrier, and now had the edge of the Royal Sword lodged in Jedah’s side. It was Jedah’s turn to cry out in pain.

“Damn you,” he growled. “You really are Rudolf’s stubborn brat…”

Despite his wound, Jedah did not lose the spell he had prepared. With Alm still holding the sword in his side, Jedah extended his hands and cast a warp circle under both of them. Before Alm had time to react, he and Jedah were both teleported out of the vault.

The light of the warp spell dissipated. Wherever they were now, it appeared to still be in the temple. Alm and Jedah now stood in a spacious cavern, its ceiling more than double the height of the chambers in the royal vault. Scores of candles lined the niches in the walls beyond. On the floor, there was an inscription of Duma’s sigil.

“My Lord Duma!” Jedah called, though his voice faltered due to his wound. “I’ve brought you the Brand Bearer who threatens your order!”

Hearing that, Alm pressed his sword deeper into Jedah’s side in a desperate attempt to silence him. Jedah grunted in pain and doubled over, but did not fall. However, it was already too late. Shortly after Jedah had spoken, a giant purple eye materialized out of thin air above them. An invisible force started pulling Alm away from Jedah.

“No!”

Alm pulled on his sword, using it as an anchor to resist whatever was pulling him. It was a wasted effort. All he did was pull the blade out of Jedah’s side. It flew out with such force that Alm lost his grip on it. The sword slid along the floor, stopping just a couple feet away.

Now freed from the sword, Jedah raised his arms, directing his magic. Presently, Alm was lifted off his feet.

“Let go of me!” he cried.

He twisted and writhed, trying to break free, but to no avail. Jedah’s magic lifted Alm until he was level with the giant eye, about ten feet off the ground.

“Take his soul unto you and feast!” Jedah said.

The eye made a noise similar to the roar of a dragon. It fixed its gaze on Alm. A sickly yellow light began to emanate from it, eventually enveloping Alm’s whole body. His struggling slowed down, and then stopped entirely. The yellow light vanished, and Alm dropped to the floor. Meanwhile, the eye made another, much louder noise than before. The purple aura surrounding it glowed and pulsated with a greater intensity than before as well. Even the eye itself seemed to have swelled in size.

Jedah stared at the scene, awestruck. “Such potent energy! My Lord Duma is pleased!” he said.

Alm picked himself up off the ground. He walked over to where his sword lay and picked it up, then returned to his original spot. With the Royal Sword now in hand, Alm stood in front of Jedah as if waiting on him.

Jedah, on the other hand, could no longer ignore the wound in his side. He summoned an arcanist, who came running out of the shadows from the other side of the cavern. Seeing their wounds, he promptly cast healing magic on both Jedah and Alm. When he finished, the arcanist retreated back to the side of the cavern he had come from. After the arcanist disappeared from view, Jedah couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh. Alm neither spoke nor moved.

While the arcanist had been busy with Jedah and Alm, Duma’s eye floated up toward the cavern ceiling. Just before reaching the ceiling, the eye vanished. That left just Jedah and Alm standing there in the center of the sigil.

“Prince Alm of Rigel,” Jedah said. “Bearer of Duma’s Brand… now reborn as his faithful pawn. How fitting.”

Alm remained silent. He stared straight ahead, his once green eyes having turned blood red under Duma’s influence.

“Now go,” Jedah commanded. He conjured another warp circle. “Offer up your fellow Brand Bearer’s soul to your new master.”

Alm stiffened. Finally, he spoke.

“As Duma commands…”

His grip on the Royal Sword tightened, and he stepped into the warp circle. The pattern of the warp circle shone with blinding intensity for a fraction of a second. Then both it and Alm vanished.

* * *

 

Celica discovered the passage leading to Duma Temple back on the first floor of the tower. The trapdoor was hidden under some loose tile flooring in a room somewhere near the back of the first floor. Conrad and Saber helped her remove the tiles and open the door. Then, even with the door open all the way, the passage was too narrow to allow more than one person to enter at a time. Celica entered the passage first. Everyone else followed single file.

The first couple hundred feet of the passage had no torches, so Celica conjured her own magical fire that flew alongside her. She led the way, keeping her sword handy in case of an attack. As they rounded a corner, the passageway widened, and torches mounted on the walls now illuminated the path.

They wandered through twisting tunnels, encountering Terrors and Duma Faithful every so often as they went. The so-called Temple of Duma rapidly turned into more of a labyrinth, with only the mangled remains of enemies marking the paths Celica’s company had taken.

“Hold on a second, lass,” Saber said.

Celica stopped mid-stride. “What is it, Saber?”

Saber made a sweeping gesture at the pile of broken gargoyle bodies on the floor half a dozen feet away.

“I don’t think we’ve been through here yet,” he said. “So what’s this?”

Celica frowned. She walked over to the bodies, inspecting them.

“We’ve been wandering through this Terror-infested labyrinth for gods know how long,” Kamui said. “Are you sure this wasn’t us?”

Celica walked past the gargoyles.

“Yes,” she said. She pointed in the direction she had been walking. “Look, there are some stairs here, leading to a lower level. We definitely have not been here before.”

“Then who did…” Conrad muttered to himself. Then, as a realization struck him, he ran to catch up to Celica. “Anthiese!”

Celica halted mid-step again, turning to face her brother. “Conrad?”

“It’s possible that the Deliverance got here ahead of us,” Conrad said.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Celica said. She looked down at the floor. “That would mean Alm is already in the temple.”

“Yeah, but how does that help us?” Saber cut in. “I thought we were looking for Mila. Unless you think he knows where she is…”

“He might,” Celica said. “But…”

“What’s wrong?” Conrad asked.

“I remember what Jedah said, back in the swamp,” Celica replied. “He said he would be waiting for me here, but he also said that Alm’s fate was my doing. What does that mean? Was he counting on Alm reaching the temple ahead of us? And if so…”

Mae walked up to Celica, jumping into the conversation before Celica could finish.

“Never mind what that creep Jedah said!” she said. “He was just trying to scare you into going with him.”

Celica sighed. “I hope you’re right, Mae…”

She led the group down the stairs. The left passage at the bottom of the stairs was blocked by a pile of fallen rocks, so Celica went to the right, following a long, curved path until the tunnel split into two paths. One path had a sharp right turn leading to a dimly lit chamber. The other continued forward.

Curiosity got the better of her, and Celica took the right turn. The statue in the center of the room caught her eye immediately. It bore a strong resemblance to the statues of Mila residing in shrines all across Zofia, except that this statue was missing its head and a chunk of the left shoulder. Celica walked up to it.

“A shrine to Mila? Here?”

Mae joined her in front of the statue.

“Huh… I wonder who had the stones to put this in the middle of Duma’s Temple,” she said. “I mean, I’m not complaining that it’s here, but…”

Celica shrugged. Boey walked up, pulling a waterskin out of his knapsack.

“Since we’re here, could we take a minute to rest?” he asked.

Celica nodded. While Boey took a swig of water, the others all either sat down or leaned against the nearest wall. Mae and Boey joined the group in sitting down, leaving Celica by herself. Rather than join them, Celica knelt before the statue and began praying.

It was quiet and still for almost five minutes. When Celica opened her eyes and rose to her feet, everyone else took that as their signal to get up as well.

“Jedah said he would be at the Altar of Duma,” Celica said. “That’s probably where Mila will be as well. We must hurry and find it.”

With that, she headed back to the main passage. Following the only path they had not yet taken, the group pressed onward. Less than a minute later, they encountered another split in the passage. Celica brought the group to a halt.

“What is it?” Conrad asked.

Celica held a finger to her lips. “Listen,” she said. “I thought I heard voices coming from up ahead.”

“Probably just more of the Duma Faithful,” Kamui said with a shrug.

“No, these voices sound familiar.”

Everyone in the group fell silent for a few seconds. During the pause, a couple voices did indeed echo through the passage, sounding like they came from somewhere ahead of Celica’s group. Though their words were indistinct, Celica recognized their voices.

“That’s Tobin and Gray!”

Saber gave Celica a quizzical look.

“The Deliverance _is_ here!” Celica continued. “They’re just up ahead. That means Alm is…”

She took off at a sprint. The others ran and caught up to her, but she did not stop until the other party actually came into view.

As Celica came running down the corridor, Gray and Tobin abruptly ended their conversation. They both turned to watch as she stopped just a few paces away. Her footsteps had also alerted the rest of Alm’s companions, and so she suddenly had everyone’s eyes on her.

“Celica?!” Gray exclaimed.

The rest of the Deliverance, most of whom had been sitting down, began standing up. Gray, Tobin, Kliff, and Faye gathered around Celica, but the rest looked on from wherever they were standing. Meanwhile, behind her, the rest of Celica’s companions caught up to her. Celica greeted her friends, but also took a quick sweeping glance around the chamber. She didn’t recognize anyone else, save for Sir Mycen. Alm was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is Alm?” she asked.

Gray jerked his thumb in the direction of the entrance of the royal vault.

“In there somewhere,” he said. “That weird mark on his hand started glowing and… he just ran in.”

Celica frowned. “So why is everyone out here?”

“Believe me, we tried following him,” Gray said with a grimace. “But we couldn’t. There’s some kind of barrier blocking us.”

Celica raised her eyebrows. “So, we have no choice but to wait until he returns?”

Gray shrugged. “I guess so.”

“I don’t know, though,” Tobin added. “He’s been in there for over an hour.”

“Yeah,” Faye said, her eyes downcast. “I’m starting to get worried.”

Celica’s heart sank. “Is there no other way into the vault?”

Gray shook his head. “I doubt it.”

Celica walked past her friends. The stone tablet in front of the vault caught her eye, and she went over to look at it. She read the inscription quietly to herself.

“These doors bar all… save those of royal blood?”

She looked at the door of the vault, then back at the tablet. Then, without a warning, she took off running again. This time, she ran straight for the vault. Contrary to what Gray said, she made her way in unimpeded. No invisible barrier blocked her path.

Gray and several others called out for her to wait, but she had already disappeared into the shadowy halls of the vault. Halfway down the corridor, however, she slowed to a fast walk. She held the Beloved Zofia at the ready as she entered the first chamber.

Except for the scattered bonewalker remains in the center of the room, there was nothing. Celica took slow, cautious steps forward. Nothing happened. Someone – most likely Alm – had already disposed of whatever enemies would have been hiding in the room. Nevertheless, Celica kept her guard up the whole time, even as she entered the next corridor.

The next chamber was the same as the last. This time, Alm had left a pile of dead gargoyles in his wake. In the next room, there lay a handful of white dragon corpses. Celica walked past each grisly scene with growing dread, for Alm himself was still nowhere to be found. But then, she entered the final room.

She gasped at the sight of Mila’s petrified body. Or, rather, what was left of it. Someone or something had destroyed most of Mila’s body. Shattered stone pieces lay all over the floor. Only her head and the sword protruding from it remained intact.

“Oh gods, what happened here? Mother Mila… we’re too late… I’ve failed…”

The sound of approaching footsteps distracted her, and she turned her head sharply in the direction of the new arrival. Celica recognized the dark robes, purple skin, and black eyes immediately.

“Jedah!” She spat his name out with as much contempt as she could muster. “What have you done to Mila?”

Jedah looked around at the debris. “Don’t blame me for this, girl,” he said. “Lay blame on the emperor who broke the Divine Accord and sealed her. Lay blame on the goddess herself for sealing Falchion with her and abandoning her Zofian children!”

“What are you talking about?”

“With Falchion sealed, there is nothing that can harm Lord Duma now,” Jedah replied. “But all is not lost. The power within a Brand Bearer’s soul is enough to restore Duma and ensure his survival.”

“I know; your bargain was that I offer my soul to Duma in exchange for Mila’s release,” Celica said. She pointed the Beloved Zofia at the rubble that used to be Mila’s body. “But you lied to me. I reject your offer!”

“Just as I thought,” Jedah said. “No matter…”

He took a few steps back. As Jedah gradually disappeared into the shadows, another figure emerged. It had a human shape and was wearing what looked like half plate armor. It carried a sword in its left hand.

“Alm?” Celica said, taking half a step forward.

The figure stepped into the brighter lit area near the center of the room, revealing its face. It was indeed Alm, but a chill ran down Celica’s spine at the sight of him. Something was wrong.

She noticed it as soon as the two of them made eye contact. He had made no reaction to hearing his name, but that wasn’t what was making the hairs on the back of Celica’s neck stand on end. It was the fact that Alm’s green eyes had somehow been turned blood red. And not only had their color changed, but they somehow seemed empty; soulless, even. Celica took another hesitant step forward, her hand outstretched.

“Alm, are you all right?” she asked.

Without a warning, Alm let out a savage yell and swung the Royal Sword at her, missing by a mere two inches. Celica leapt backwards.

“What are you doing?!” she cried. “It’s me, Celica!”

Jedah reappeared behind Alm. “Don’t waste your breath, princess,” he said. “Your words can’t reach him. His soul has already been offered up to Lord Duma. What you see now is merely a puppet loyal to Duma’s will!”

The words struck Celica like a knife through the heart.

“No…” she said. “Alm… please, not you…”

Alm raised his sword and charged. Celica blocked the blow with her own sword. However, Alm pushed her blade back with almost inhuman force, sending her staggering back up against a wall. He sprinted after her. She deflected his next attack with her shield, sidestepping him to get away from the wall. Alm raised his sword again, this time going for Celica’s right shoulder. The edge of the Royal Sword clashed with the edge of the Beloved Zofia. Sparks flew from both blades.

“Celica…”

Celica’s breath caught in her throat. She heard the pain in Alm’s voice. He was still in there, fighting against Duma’s control.

“Listen to me…” Alm said. “You have to… stop me before I kill you… Please… there’s no other way…”

He withdrew his sword for a split second, only to strike again with even greater force. The ferocity of the blow caught Celica off guard, and the Beloved Zofia was knocked out of her hand. It landed atop a small pile of rubble three feet away. Celica ran for it, but not before Alm took another swipe at her. His blade grazed her arm, cutting just deep enough to draw blood.

Celica picked up her sword, but not quite in time. Alm had already caught up to her. She blocked his sword just inches before it would have pierced her chest, but she couldn’t completely stop his forward momentum. Though she diverted the sword away from her chest, it just pierced her shoulder instead. She cried out in pain.

“Celica!” Alm said, yanking the sword out of Celica’s shoulder. “Do it now! Kill me!”

But the more Alm pleaded, the more powerful and relentless his attacks became. He swung his sword with blinding speed and inhuman strength – the result of Duma’s power coursing through him.

He rushed at Celica one more time. She braced herself, getting ready to parry the attack. Their blades collided yet again. The strength in Alm’s attack pushed Celica back, until she was nearly up against Mila’s skull. With one sweeping motion, Alm sent the Beloved Zofia flying out of Celica’s hands again, but this time, it flew clear across the room. A muffled clanging echoed through the room as the weapon landed somewhere in the shadows. Celica lost her balance and fell to her knees beside Mila.

She looked up at Alm, half expecting him to have started rushing in for the kill already. He didn’t.

“Hurry!” Alm said, his voice growing weak. He staggered backward a few paces. “Before… I lose control completely…”

“I can’t… I’m sorry, Alm…”

Celica closed her eyes. She had failed to save both Mila and Alm. Now it seemed she was about to pay the price of her failure.

“ _Hear me, my Brand Bearer!_ ”

“What?”

Celica’s eyes flew open, and she turned to look at Mila. That was Mila’s voice, though it seemed to have come from the sword rather than the draconic skull in which it was lodged.

“ _Grasp Falchion now in your hand.”_

Not having any better options, Celica obeyed. She reached out and grabbed the stone hilt, pulling herself to her feet. The instant her fingers touched the stone, her Brand started glowing. Her eyes went wide with shock. Even Alm took a step back.

Falchion started glowing as well. At first, it was a dull light, just barely visible through the divine weapon’s stone encasing. Then, the stone started to crack, and brighter pinpricks of light shone through the cracks.

“What are you doing?!” Jedah’s voice called from the other end of the room.

The cracks widened, and the stone started breaking away in small fragments. Celica pulled on the hilt. Slowly but surely, she began to lift the sword out from Mila’s brow.

“Impossible!” Jedah cried. “No one should be able to unbind that blade!”

The last fragment of stone fell. The whole room became bathed in the light radiating from Falchion’s blade. Celica raised the weapon over her head, and Falchion emitted an especially brilliant flash of light. Jedah screamed and fled. Alm shielded his eyes but held his ground. As Falchion’s light faded, Alm raised the Royal Sword and let out a yell.

The ruby in Falchion’s hilt glowed as Mila’s voice spoke again.

“ _Trust in Falchion,”_ it said.

Celica gripped Falchion’s hilt with both hands. She looked at Alm. Half a second later, the two charged at each other simultaneously. They met in the center of the room.

They both stood absolutely still for a moment. Both had their blades pointed forward. Both seemed to struggle for breath. Celica moved first. She tilted her head downward, looking at the two blades. It took her a second to locate Alm’s sword, as she did not see it at first upon looking down. Then she noticed Alm’s left hand resting between her arm and her torso, holding his sword harmlessly in the air next to her. He had deliberately missed.

Meanwhile, both of Celica’s hands clung tightly to Falchion, which now protruded from Alm’s chest. She had the sword pierced in so far that half of its blade protruded out of his back as well. Blood seeped out of his wounds, staining Falchion’s blade. He looked Celica in the eye. His own eyes lost their red glow, returning to their normal green just before they fell shut.

“Forgive me… Celica…” he said.

Alm’s arms fell to his sides. He lost his grip on the Royal Sword, and it clattered to the floor by Celica’s foot. Celica, in turn, let go of Falchion and stepped back. Alm then collapsed in a heap on the floor.

Silence fell on the chamber. Celica stared at Alm, feeling a fresh wave of sorrow and despair wash over her.

“Please no…”

She knelt down and seized Alm’s shoulders, lifting his torso up a little. Cradling his head and neck in her left arm, she channeled healing energy into her right hand. It glowed white with healing magic, and she attempted to heal the wound in his chest. After a few seconds, however, the healing spell dissipated. Her magic had not had any effect. Celica lowered her hand, tears welling up in her eyes.

“No! Don’t leave me, Alm!” she said. “Open your eyes… Please!”

She waited in vain for over a minute for a reply. As the realization and despair set in, however, she could no longer hold back her tears. Cradling Alm’s lifeless body in both arms, she wept.

“Alm… I’m so sorry…”

For about two minutes, Celica remained there by Mila’s skull, unwilling to move or even let go of Alm. She just sat there, eyes closed, head bowed, while tears streamed down her cheeks.

Being so consumed by her grief, she didn’t notice at first that Falchion had started glowing again. As its glow intensified, the light did eventually catch her attention.

Falchion’s light grew to the point that it bathed the chamber in the same light as when Celica had drawn it from Mila’s brow. Alm’s body began to move, causing Celica’s heart to skip a beat. However, his eyes remained shut, and he showed no sign of breathing. The movement was rather from something starting to pull him out of Celica’s embrace. Her initial reaction was to resist it, but she quickly relented. Perhaps Mila was doing something.

Alm was lifted ten feet into the air. Celica stood up, gaze turned upward as she followed his movement. While he remained suspended in the air, the golden light of some unknown magic materialized out of Falchion’s blade, swirling around Alm. Then, as if gripped by an invisible hand, Falchion was slowly pulled out of Alm’s chest. It then remained suspended a few feet above him.

The magical lights spread themselves over Alm’s body. They remained there for only a few seconds before vanishing in a blindingly bright flash of light. Celica shielded her eyes. The lighting in the chamber returned to normal, and as she uncovered her eyes, Alm was slowly lowered to the floor. Falchion came down as well, although to the side. It clattered to the floor on the other side of Alm.

Celica knelt beside him. She started to reach for him but hesitated, unsure of what to do. She looked him over, noticing that the wound in his chest was gone. But still he did not move.

“Alm…?” she said.

Just barely a second later, Alm started to show signs of life. His chest began to rise and fall with breath. His left arm moved, and he made a groaning sound. Then, finally, he opened his eyes.

“Celica?” he said.

Overcome with joy, Celica didn’t even bother with a response. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. Alm, not expecting that reaction, found himself flattened under Celica’s weight. He returned the embrace, but did not stay in that position for long.

“Celica… could you let me up… please?”

“Oh! Sorry…” Celica said. She let go of him but stayed seated beside him.

Alm sat up. Resting his left hand on the floor, he rubbed his temple with his right. He looked down at his left hand. Falchion lay just two feet away, its blade still stained with his blood.

“Ugh… what happened?” he asked.

“You were being controlled by Duma,” Celica said. “But I could tell you were fighting him. You begged me to kill you…”

Alm winced, putting his hand over where his wound used to be. Though the wound was gone, blood still stained his armor and clothing. He looked at Celica, noticing blood still trickling out of the wound in her shoulder.

“Then I heard Mila’s voice, telling me to take Falchion,” Celica continued. “It happened so quickly. Mila told me to trust in Falchion, but…”

She trailed off as tears began welling up in her eyes again.

“I thought I’d lost you, Alm!” she cried.

Alm reached over and wiped Celica’s tears. “Please don’t cry,” he said. “I’m here. It’s all right.”

“Yes…”

The two of them fell silent for a minute.

“What do we do now?” Celica asked. “We have Falchion, but now Mila is gone…”

Alm seized Falchion, picking it up. Holding it in his left hand, he ran his right hand along the flat of the blade, cleaning some of his blood off.

“There’s only one thing we can do,” he said. “We have to slay Duma.”

He attempted to stand up, but dropped Falchion and nearly fell on top of Celica. Though his wound had been healed, his strength had not fully returned. He had to lean on Celica for support to get back on his feet. The two of them stood still for a minute. Then, when Alm felt steady enough on his feet to stand upright without help, Celica stepped away. Alm stayed put while Celica wandered the room in search of her Beloved Zofia. She returned a minute later.

Both Falchion and the Royal Sword still lay on the floor. While Alm reached for the Royal Sword, Celica sheathed her sword and grabbed Falchion.

“Let’s go,” Alm said. They then walked out of the vault together.

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea in my head, wondering how Act IV and V would play out if it was possible to complete Alm's side first. This was literally just Act IV and V, but if Alm was the one captured instead. Jedah's plan is to ultimately capture both Brand Bearers, but if Alm gets to the Temple of Duma first, then Jedah risks Alm getting his hands of Falchion before Jedah can properly capture and sacrifice Celica to Duma. So, he changes plans at the last second, figuring he can let the Duma-possessed Alm kill Celica when she does finally reach the Temple.  
> I also kept the deus ex machina ending, since I figured this could have been a feasible alternate path if the game let you clear Alm's half of Act IV before Celica's. I also figured that Celica ought to be able to wield Falchion as well, being a Brand Bearer and all.


End file.
